Sleepless Nights and Broken Princesses
by Phoenix-Talon
Summary: Bae hates warm summer nights when his memories are all too vivid. In an effort to escape them, he meets a lonely diner waitress. Adult!Baelfire/Emma, smut, oneshot.


**AN: Just a little oneshot of my headcanon for these two. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

He remembered most often at night. Summer nights were the worst—especially when the warm wind blew and the crickets sang outside his window, even when he shut it. The summer night hummed a tune so familiar, it was almost as if he was back home. He couldn't stand it.

On nights like this, he slept with the television on. Long marathons of NCIS or Teen Mom blared across the airwaves, taking away any possibility of magic in this world, helping him ensure that he doesn't remember.

Bae hated remembering.

But then, there were the nights where nothing helped, where he can't sleep because he was haunted by visions of a dark figure releasing his wrist as he screamed, "_COWARD! YOU PROMISED! DON'T BREAK OUR DEAL_!" There will be no peace on those nights.

That's when Bae would head to the bar.

One night, however, the bar was closed. Never mind that it was 4 AM—Bae had stared at the bar's closed sign with a great deal of venom. He didn't feel like going back to his cramped little apartment. So he drove around until he came upon a twenty-four hour diner and on impulse, had decided to order a coffee there.

That was where he met Emma.

XXXXX

They never had pumpkin pie. This was a source of annoyance for Bae, a point he brought up frequently with Emma, who merely laughed, and told him no one ordered pumpkin pie after November.

He liked Emma. There was something about her—maybe the soft way her gold hair curled, or the mischief in her blue-green eyes, or perhaps her penchant for leather jackets. Most gave him a wide berth, as he wasn't exactly the friendliest customer—he tended to grouse and give strangers dark glares—but she wasn't afraid. She was positively fearless, never afraid to stand up to some of the rowdier patrons, even forcibly kicking them out. She was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry.

But there was a certain vulnerability about her too. A hunted, troubled look deep within her blasé countenance. It made him want to stop drifting, to stop constantly moving, and rescue her from whatever tormented her. It made him feel like his old self again, longing for a battle to fight, a damsel to save, that nobility and honor were real and true. It gave him that sense without the painful taste of bitter memories.

They began to talk during her breaks and after she got off. She had a history of bad relationships. Bae could understand that. One of her old lovers had actually been married, something that made Bae angry—not at her, at the old flame. Emma was too young for that kind of heartbreak and manipulation. He never could tell how old she was—sometimes she seemed barely more than a girl, other times entirely world-weary and ageless.

Their conversations grew longer and more intense. 3AM is not a busy time for a diner, and eventually Emma stopped staring off into space behind the counter and joined him. She stole bites from his pie; a quirk that would normally annoy but instead charmed him. He would mock fight her fork with his own, ending up in intense fork fights which she always won.

"I'd hate to see you with a real sword," He'd comment wryly and she'd give him a smug grin as she took a triumphant bite of apple pie.

She revealed that she was newly out of the foster system, something Bae could relate to very well. She told him horrible stories, about families that would take her in and then abandon her, about foster families that only cared about the money she brought in. She always spoke with a coldly humorous tone, as if it didn't bother her, but he knew it did. Bae knew what it was to be abandoned. He knew what it was to be alone.

He took her hand. "Emma," He asked seriously. "What do you want most in the world?"

Emma stared at his hand on hers and thought. "I want to find my family," She decided.

That was something Bae did not understand. "Why?" He wondered aloud.

Emma looked confused. "Why?" She leaned towards him. "Don't you want to know where your family is?"

That was another thing about Emma. Bae had revealed nothing about himself, and still, she somehow knew. She saw through everything.

"My mom's dead," He said finally. "It's just me."

"What about your dad?"

Bae's fingers twitched, still curled around Emma's small palm. "He made his choice."

"So did my parents," Emma said bitterly. "They left me on the side of a highway. But I want—I want—I don't know, closure? I want to know why. I want to know how."

"I know why," Bae came close to snapping. "And I know how. I don't want to see him ever again."

Emma gazed at him. Her thumb lightly stroked his. "Bae," She said quietly. "I can tell when people are lying."

Bae didn't answer. He kept his gaze fixed on their entwined fingers, the little shivers her thumb's movements were giving him.

"Maybe I should go," He whispered.

"Maybe I should go with you," Emma whispered back. His grip on her hand tightened.

"I don't—I don't think that's a good idea," He exhaled loudly. He stood quickly. Emma smoothly joined him.

"Liar," She grinned before kissing him.

XXXXX

She tasted like home. Like sun-soaked blackberries, cool and fresh and sweet. Something about kissing her brought back memories of lying in the fields outside his home, worlds away. It was a bittersweet and lovely kiss, all of the good memories without the bad. He could feel her smiling against his lips and it wasn't fair, he was trying to be a gentleman here, but she kept pushing and pushing, crumbling his defenses.

His fingers tangled into her gold hair and she pressed against him. She kissed him slowly, languidly, taking her sweet time, as if his surrender was inevitable. Perhaps she was right. But he could at least try.

Bae broke away for half a moment. "Emma—"

"No lying," Her blue-green eyes sparkled and she kissed the tip of his nose. Damn it.

"You're barely legal," He settled on that factor. Their age difference wasn't so great, not as great as some, but he could make it into an issue.

There was a spark of defiance in her eyes. "I've been eighteen for two months now."

"All the more reason you should—" He tried but she was pressing up against him again, kissing him slow and deep. He didn't have a choice. He _had_ to kiss her back, to taste the sweet tang of blackberries and summer. This time, she tangled her fingers into his hair and he groaned a little bit at the sensation, low in his throat. Unbidden, his arms wrapped around her waist, fingers running up and down her back. She nipped his lower lip lightly before breaking away. He growled at her.

She giggled, looking entirely too pleased with herself. She paused the kiss to run her lips along his jaw-line and draw figure eights on his chest with her forefinger.

"You two, get a room," The crabby night manager barked at both of them, giving Bae a good excuse to step away from her. Emma however, did not look at all finished with him.

"He has a point," She murmured to him. Bae exhaled loudly but allowed her to lead him outside the diner.

He wished they'd been drinking. Then he could blame alcohol and say he'd be taking advantage of her. But all he'd had to drink was coffee, and the sharp sober clarity in Emma's eyes brooked no excuse.

"Done?" She asked quietly, and he knew she was asking if he had any more reservations, anymore reasons not to. He could think of none. His hands took a life of their own, curling into her blonde curls. He wanted to bury his face in them, inhale their fragrance.

Sighing in resignation, he tipped her face towards his to kiss her again.

XXXXXXX

They ended up at his apartment. She didn't seem inclined to take him back wherever she lived, but that was all right. He liked her here, filling up the empty space. Her presence chased away the shadows.

Bae tried to ask her again if she was sure, but she didn't even let him finish, practically throwing herself in his arms. She pushed him up against his bedroom wall, kissing him hotly. He struggled at keeping in time with her actions as she seemed determine to dominate and control the situation. He was wrong to think she was a damsel in distress; Emma was a born warrior, and her dominance was more than a little erotic. She was aggressive and sweet, friendly and lonely, tough and vulnerable.

He began to fight for control for the kiss, one hand spanning the length of her waist, the other curling up towards the back of her neck. She moaned in his mouth when he lightly tugged her hair; apparently her scalp was deliciously sensitive. He left her protesting mouth to navigate the soft areas of neck and taste the planes of her collarbone. He relished the sweet way her breath was quickening and how her hands were probably permanently mussing his hair.

"Gods, Emma," He said breathlessly into the nape of her neck, where her shoulder met. She chuckled huskily.

"Thought you didn't believe in God," She murmured thickly, arching her neck, urging him onwards. She was slightly mistaken. Bae had told her that he had no patience for God, not that he disbelieved. He supposed in this world it was tantamount to the same thing. But Bae distrusted anything claiming to be supernatural. He learned a long time ago that young boys' wishes, fairies, and magic meant nothing but pain in the long run. All magic came with a price.

Bae hated magic.

He decided not to reply to the comment, instead choosing to focus his attentions on sliding the straps of her tank top off her shoulders. She pushed him away briefly, to pull the black piece of clothing off of her, tossing it away. Her bra was a rosy pink and a staggering contrast from everything he knew about her. He could never quite figure Emma Swan out.

He loved that about her.

Bae returned to her mouth, kissing her hard and desperate, nibbling her lower lip, exploring every possible crevice. She sucked lightly on his tongue and returned his nips, chuckling darkly at his answering growls. His fingers drew up to her breasts, fingering the lace edgings before exploring what was beneath. He felt her gasp against his mouth.

She pushed him forward, towards his bed. He fell backwards gracelessly and she clambered after him, straddling his hips. The friction between their jeans was almost too much to bear as she ground against him. He was _dying_ for more contact with her skin.

She tugged on his dark green T-shirt. Impatiently, he pulled it off, flinging it away. Her hands were all over his chest caressing every inch of him. He gritted his teeth when her hands drifted lower, to his abdomen and meandered towards the buttons of his jeans.

"Damn it, Emma," Bae swore and she grinned unrepentantly, kissing him sweetly on the corner of his mouth.

He focused his hands on finding the clasp of her bra, trying to keep his mind off of his now throbbing erection. Unhooking it, he slid the delicate material off her shoulders, cupping one of her breasts. He felt her sigh into his neck before nipping him hard as he gently squeezed her, bringing her breast to his mouth. He kissed and sucked and she cried out when his teeth grazed her nipple. Her legs tightened around his waist, the pressure straining his erection further.

Emma gave him one more scorching kiss before sliding off of him, just for a moment. She peeled off her tight jeans and he followed suit, hurriedly escaping his own denim confines. This time he pinned her down, hands around her wrists, giving into another melting, mind-consuming kiss. He rather loved this power struggle between them, much like their verbal sparring and intense fork fights. It wouldn't surprise him if Emma won this battle too. Still, he could make a valiant effort.

With that in mind, his hands slipped down to the curve of her backside and began to glide across her thighs. She wore black underwear—standard cotton, nothing fancy, but nevertheless, they pleased Bae. His fingers slipped beneath the cotton barrier to touch her core and groaned aloud when he felt how wet she was, his cock now embarrassingly tenting his boxers. She whimpered in response as he began to explore her folds, rubbing around her center but shying away every time she moaned.

"_Bae_," She gasped aloud, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He maneuvered his fingers in and out of her underwear, using the friction of the cloth to intensify his every motion. Emma's back arched into his fingers as his fingers explored deeper. She cried out again and began to ride his fingers as he stroked her clit in time with her movements. She bit his neck savagely, bucking against him hard as he felt her walls contract and he smiled against her soft skin as she keened with her climax. She shivered deliciously in his arms.

Without warning, she grabbed hold of his wrists and flipped him over onto his back. She was rubbing herself against his erection like a cat and he groaned. He needed to be inside her so badly; the sight of her straddling him with that heady look in her eyes was overwhelming.

But as he felt her slide his boxers down his legs, a moment of hesitation came over him.

"Emma," Bae panted out. "Are you sure—?"

Emma laughed as she finished her ministrations, going back to his mouth to kiss him tenderly. "You're funny," She purred into his lips and he returned the kiss with as much passion tempered with tenderness as he could.

It had been a long way since he felt this way about anyone. This enchanted, this desirous...he was positively captivated by her.

For a split second, he realized he didn't have a condom. He pushed the thought away, assuming Emma must've been on some sort of birth control or she never would've let it get this far anyway.

In one smooth stroke, he was inside her. As suspected, Emma had once again won, riding against him, dominating the rhythm, her fingers entwining with his. He had no more coherent thoughts, the sight of her on top of him, eyes closed, palms squeezing his, short-circuited his brain as he thrust up to meet her. One hand reached towards where they were joined once again, smoothing and kneading her clit as she rode him, hard and fast. His other cradled her hip, running his fingers down her backside, urging her onwards.

Bae came shortly after her, muffling a hoarse cry into her neck, feeling the sweet agony as her nails raked down his back. She sank against his chest exhausted, and Bae tried to get some semblance of sanity back. He stroked her back, pulling the sheets over them.

XXXXXXX

Bae didn't remember falling asleep, but the sound of rustling clothing abruptly woke him. His eyes opened to see Emma, pulling on her black tank top and searching for her jeans.

"What are you doing?" He asked sleepily, lifting himself on one elbow.

She turned to look at him, surprised. "Don't you want me to go?"

He blinked at her. Why would she think that? "Do you want to go?"

She bit her lip. Bae stared at her, trying to understand her sudden inclination to leave. Did he hurt her? Did he do something wrong? The stark vulnerability in her face suddenly pierced him. She expected him to turn her out. Because that was all she'd ever known. All she'd known in her family and all she'd known in love.

"Come back," He said softly.

Confusion filled her face. It broke his heart.

"I'd like it if you stayed," He clarified. He didn't know where exactly this could go, what exactly could happen between them, but he did know that for a night, Emma Swan banished the demons that haunted him. She flushed away the memories of a swirling green vortex, the ache of betrayal and broken promises and reminded him of the worth in his life.

Emma looked hesitant. He folded over the edge of the blanket, waiting for her. A small smile began to grow on her face as she tiptoed towards his bed. She joined him there, fitting neatly in the nook of his arm. He kissed her forehead, smelling the sweet scent of her hair.


End file.
